A Reporter Named Urayoán
Yesterday a reporter make fun of me. I ask for change in America and he twist my words.
Why don’t he make fun of Bark Obama?
There are no real news people anymore.
Only gossip and Radio Bemba.
In 1493 Christopher Columbus make his second trip to America with 17 ships, 1,400 men, horses, cattle, guns and smallpox.
The Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Small Pox
The Taíno Indians make a big mistake: they show Columbus some gold nuggets in a river, and tell him to take all he wanted.
You have what in that river?
Naturally, this started a gold rush.
They name the island Puerto Rico (“rich port”) and invade with Spanish bibles, African slaves, and enslave the Taínos as well: every Taíno over the age of fourteen had to find a hawk’s bell of gold every three months, or have their hands chopped off.
No Country for Old Taínos
The Taínos obey.
Even worse, a strange plague (smallpox) was killing all the Taínos but not the Spaniards…which meant they must be gods, or at least immortal.
A cranky old Taíno chief named Urayoán find this very fishy, so he try a little experiment.
He tells a lonely Spaniard named Diego Salcedo that a lakeful of virgins are waiting for him.
Diego dash right over but met a lakeful of Taíno warriors, instead.
They drown him.
For three days Urayoán watch, poke and smell the body.
When Diego start to stink Urayoán scream, and go an island-wide tour.
Ding dong, the Diego’s dead
Riots break out all over.
Ponce de León shoot 6,000 more Taínos in order to maintain public order and respect for the Queen.
Now that’s an investigative reporter! They don’t make ‘em like that any more! They burn with curiosity and sometimes change the world.
Bring back Urayoán and his nose for news.
Right now all we got, is what my grandmother warned me about:
“When a genius arrive in the world, by this sign shall ye know…that a conspiracy of pendejos will rise up against him.”
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